Filling the Void
by Calie1
Summary: She won't give up on him, even if it's what he wants...except now things are different.


Notes: This takes place after Season 8. Ignore everything you know about Season 9. There is the potential for more, but I'm not promising it at the moment. I hope everyone likes this. I haven't written much lately, I just haven't been able to even though I have wanted to. So I'm glad I finally got inspired to put something together.

* * *

She worked the room, making mostly idle small talk with a variety of single bachelors, passing the time. He was there, speaking to those that addressed him, but not entertaining. And they took the hint quickly enough, taking their leave from the young man. His tie was loosened, hair a bit more astray than usual, a couple of days worth of stubble on his chin. He stood at the bar now, which wasn't surprising, leaning back against it, a glass of some dark liquid in his hand.

For about thirty minutes she'd kept herself hidden, watching him, confirming that Mercer wasn't hanging about. As predicted, Tess wouldn't be at this affair.

The next man who came up to her, chatting and then asking for her hand, she allowed to lead her onto the dance floor with a smile. She followed effortlessly, giving her partner his share of attention and only glancing over his shoulder briefly until she finally caught his eyes. For a moment their eyes locked, she stepped, and then the contact was broken, but he saw her, of that she was sure. From then on she avoided eyes, which she knew were on her. The dance ended and she took her partner's offered arm, allowed him to lead her to the bar. She made chit-chat, smiled appropriately, kept her flirting to a minimum, but was gracious for the attention.

"Chloe."

That voice, not friendly or gentle, but hard and slightly angry. Turning to him with inquiring eyes she didn't flinch. "Yes?"

"Mr. Queen."

Chloe glanced at the man at her side, noting the way his back straightened and he came to his full height, taller than her, but still inches shorter then Oliver. She turned back to face Oliver whose eyes were on her, he hadn't even spared the other young man a glance.

"I'd like to speak with you."

She shrugged him off. "I'm busy right now." She already had him where she wanted him, but it wouldn't hurt to twist the thorn in his side a little deeper. That's what she was, a thorn in his side. One he didn't want, but couldn't ignore. A hand grasped her arm, tight and unyielding.

"Now."

When she turned to him his eyes were hard, demanding. It was her intention to speak with him in private, yet she still paused, just to be sure he was at his wits end before turning her body to face him. He took that as a hint, wrapping his hand around her arm and leading her out. The people they passed stared, wondering who this woman was that had angered Oliver Queen, bringing out the brutish behavior in him.

They were out the doors in seconds, her body spun sharply around so that they were facing one another. He glared down at her, hand still gripping her arm.

"What are you doing here?"

"Dancing," she said simply. His eyes narrowed in response. Pulling her arm from him she turned and walked away from him, across the marble floor of the hotel, leaving the party behind her. Stopping, mid step in the middle of the floor, she turned her head, blond curls brushing over her bare shoulders and glanced at him. He had murder in his eyes, tired of her interference in his life. He was like a caged animal, angry at her poking and prodding, ready to escape and possibly attack her in the process. "Coming?" His jaw tightened, eyes creasing as they narrowed. If she was right he would follow, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. Turning her head again she continued her path across the flawless marble, her heels echoing throughout the lobby, his shoes echoing behind hers.

His legs were longer and he closed the distance by the time she reached the elevator. When she turned to press the button he was there already, brown eyes watching her warily. The door closed and it was just them. Finally she felt fear. She was pushing him, too far. Eventually he would snap. Yet he just stood there, on the opposite side of the elevator, leaning against it as if he didn't have a care in the world. She turned her head slowly, glancing at him out of the corner of her eyes. For some reason she expected him to take advantage of the situation to confront her, but his face remained impassive and she said nothing.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Without a word she made her exit, heading towards her hotel room without a second glance to see if he was following her, because she knew he was. She arrived at her door in silence, taking out the key from her clutch and sliding it through the scanner. It beeped and with a deep breath she pushed open the door.

It closed behind her, much harder than she remember it doing earlier that night. When she turned to him he was stalking her, eyes zoomed in for the kill.

"I told you to leave me alone."

"You did," she admitted easily. "Luckily last time I didn't. It was lucky on your part I was there to put you back together. Cage fights really aren't good for your health Oliver." The last time she found him she'd dragged him out of an underground bar, spitting blood, hunched over holding his ribs. He'd cursed at her angrily, wanting to be left alone. But she took him back to his motel, cleaned him up and watched him pass out. In the morning he was gone, left her sleeping on the sofa. Her attempts before that were met with even less results. Mere brush offs and unkind words. Her technique had changed since then, evolved. Now, instead of him walking away from her, she walked away from him...and he followed.

He took a step closer, zeroing in on her. "I don't need you to save me."

"You need to save yourself, I just want to help." His arms were fast, hands wrapping around her biceps and swinging her around. The door was the only thing that stopped her.

Oliver ignored her shocked gasp as her back hit the door, pleased for some honest reaction from her besides the calm facade she had taken on. Her hands came up to his chest, pressing firmly. "Leave me alone, Chloe."

"I can't," she whispered softly, her green eyes wide and pleading.

"Why?" he asked roughly, his voice low. Releasing her arms he pressed his palms against the door on either side of her, trapping her between his arms. "Why can't you just go away?"

"I can't watch you do this to yourself."

His head lowered, bringing his face closer to her own, much too close. She didn't hear him move, but she could tell he shifted closer, taking at least a step to close the distance between them. It was too intimate for them. Her heart pounded in her chest at his proximity and the dangerous look in his eyes made her shudder. "Ollie..." she pleaded pressing against his chest, trying to hint to him that he needed to back off.

Something in him flared suddenly, hearing his name come from her lips in a plea. All at once he became aware of their situation: his proximity to her, her body trapped between his arms, his body and the wall. The way her hands pressed just slightly against his chest, not pushing him away, but trying to keep him at a distance. He could smell her perfume, mild and sweet, nothing overpowering, but it was all he could smell. His face was close enough to hers that he could feel her short quick breaths caress his lips. Her chest heaved with each breath, forcing her breasts to strain against the bodice of her dress, drawing his attention downward to her exposed cleavage. He brought his eyes back up to her face, narrowing them briefly, wanting to blame her somehow, but he knew it wasn't her fault. "When I came up here it was to yell at you. Tell you I didn't want you in my life, that I didn't care anymore." He paused briefly, his eyes flickering over her body again before landing on her face. "But I didn't expect this."

The change in his tone was the first thing that warned her that she was missing something. His voice was lower with his last words, softer, deeper.

"What?" she asked in confusion. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw one of his hands move, lowering from the wall. She glanced at it nervously and then forced her eyes back on his face, then realized quickly that had been a mistake. His hand gripped her hip, not roughly, but firm enough that she knew he had no intention of letting go. His chest bumped against hers and then he pulled her against him with his hand on her hip. There was no question what the hard length pressed against her stomach was.

As he pressed his erection flush against her body her eyes widened, lips parted in a sharp gasp, hands pressed harder against his chest until he felt himself twitch, hardening further in response to the physical proximity of her body.

But he released her, dropping his hand from her hip and from the wall and stepped back from temptation of her body. She stared at him with wide green eyes, shocked. They stood there like that, feet between them, her just staring at him. "You're in front of the door."

His statement was so simple, yet it wasn't what she expected. Not from a man that she had been chasing for months, to his displeasure, who had just pressed a rather impressive erection against her. So instead of asking him what the hell he thought he was doing, who he thought he was man handling her, she stared at him in confusion. "Okay," she whispered softly and stepped away from the door. His dark eyes seemed to twitch slightly, some emotion flashing across his face that she couldn't decipher, then he was gone. Yanking the door open and slamming it behind him.

* * *

Hours later...

Oliver thrust open the door, grateful for the cold air of the hotel room that slammed into him. It helped to ease the warmth of his body, the stickiness that seemed to cling to him after his previous activities.

After shutting the door shut he stared into the darkened room bleary eyed, tired, slightly drunk, and lost.

Moments later he found himself stripped and standing under the hot spray of the shower, arm propped up against the tile, his head hung low, replaying the past few hours like a bad movie. It wasn't all bad he figured. Even as wrong as his reaction to Chloe had been, he couldn't help but realize how good it felt. Which was why he'd left, to find something, anything, to quell the sudden need for her.

So he'd found himself at a bar, easily finding a woman willing and ready.

The point was to forget it all. Forget the guilt that Chloe always seemed to remind him of, the sense that he owed her something, owed the world something. Forget the wrongs he'd committed and the fact that he should be making it right. And now...now to forget her, just her. Forget the lust that she suddenly awoke within him, a sudden urge to touch her, feel her, and not feel tainted because of it. It was too tempting, being near her. He wanted her, that he knew now. What made the situation even more difficult, was that he knew...he knew if he could have her it would feel good. She was seeking his redemption, the hero in him. Chloe believed there was something good in him, and he wanted that, needed that. The gambling, the drinking, the woman, it was all superficial. Only filling that void for a short period of time before he needed another fix. But Chloe...he got a taste that never went away. She filled a crack in him here and there...every time she showed up in his life, trying to pull him back...until he finally realized he needed more of her.

It wasn't until the hot water had eased the tension in his body, making him ready to collapse with exhaustion, did he exit the shower. He toweled off quickly, dropping it to the floor, reasoning that the hotel staff could clean up his mess, and stepped back into the bedroom. Finding a pair of shorts in his suitcase he pulled them on and sat on the bed, falling onto his back with a sigh. It was quiet...to quiet, the only sound being the central air, keeping his room well below sixty-five degrees. The room was chilly, making his body shiver, reminding him of his poor attempt to towel off. But he didn't care, not when the only thing he could think about was the woman only floors down. The woman that had, without warning, aroused him, throwing his whole world off balance, more so than it had been. She had him thinking about things he was running from, had him running from her. And when he ran, found some random woman to bury his troubles in, he only saw her. It didn't matter how the other woman smelled, how beautiful she was, how firm her ass was or her stomach...all he saw was Chloe when he closed his eyes. So he squeezed them shut...fucking the woman harder.

His stomach rolled at the thought...the thought that he had screwed some woman while Chloe sat in her room, in the same hotel he was in, trying to bring him back. It made him sick.

Sitting up suddenly he grabbed his cell and dialed her number. He had long ago deleted it...believing he was taking some kind of stand as he had done so when he burned his Green Arrow disguise. It had been immature to do so. One ring...two...three...four...

"Hello?"

Her voice was sleepy. He wasn't sure if he was upset that she had fallen asleep after he left or grateful she hadn't wasted the time. "Why do you do it? Why do you keep coming back when I keep walking away?" Why did you answer the phone after I man handled you and pressed my hard on against you he wondered silently.

"I know you're better than this...even if you don't. And I'm not going to give up on you."

There was barely a pause before she said it. But there should have been, she should have had to think of a reason to save him. "You should." He said darkly and pulled the phone away, hitting end...hoping that she would get the hint and leave him alone, and then somewhere, in the dark recesses of his mind, praying, begging that she wouldn't.

With mild disgust and a bit of self pity he dropped the phone on the floor near the bed and dropped onto his back again, not caring to move. If he fell asleep in that position or lay there the whole night staring at the ceiling it didn't matter.

It was only moments later that a soft knock could be heard from the front of his hotel room. Oliver inhaled sharply in response, and tried to convince himself it was the hotel staff, but with one glance at the clock, realizing it was just past three in the morning, he knew that was a ridiculous assumption.

Without even thinking, moving more on impulse, he stood up and headed towards the door.

It was a brazen move, especially considering his most recent reaction to her appearance in his life. He had been angry at seeing her, which was expected. He was always angry when she appeared in his life, trying to bring him back to the fight. The last thing she had expected was the latest development. As she laid in bed she had tried to convince herself that the erection pressed against her stomach belonged to a man who had been probably screwing everything in sight for the past few months. He had been drinking, she had been there, perhaps it was bound to happen. But like her, feel genuine feelings for her...that Oliver did not. Chloe knew that.

So when he'd called her she had hesitated based on his anger and the hard on that he had pressed against her. But he'd reached out to her, called her, something he had never done, ever. Not since that day. Sure he had hung up on her, but for some reason she hadn't been hurt by it. In her opinion it had still been a cry for help, he was reaching out to her, even though he had quickly shut her down.

So without much thought she grabbed her robe and padded barefoot out of her room, reaching the elevator quick enough, and made her way up to his penthouse suite. It wasn't as if she didn't know where he was staying, and if she wanted, she could have gotten into his room without him knowing. She'd done it before. There weren't many ways to get cameras into his belts.

To her surprise the door opened after only seconds. "Hey."

Oliver paused...debating on whether to tell her to go, shut her out of his life again. Yet he couldn't push down the feelings that she had the ability to draw on. Reluctantly he dropped his hand from the door and turned away from it, allowing her entrance, even though he told himself not to.

She watched him pass the sofa as she closed the door behind her, walking out of the living room and down the hall. With a hard swallow she followed him, the carpet, much softer than her own, pressing against her bare feet, reminding her of their informal attire.

When she found him he was sitting on his bed, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands. Her heart clenched at the sight of him, a fallen hero, so closed off from the rest of the world. The rest of the world, the public, his friends...they saw the Green Arrow, some saw Oliver Queen...but how many saw the man sitting there slumped over and broken. It hurt to see him, so beautiful and so broken. Like a fallen angel, it was ridiculously poetic and would have made her roll her eyes if someone would have said it to her, but as she stood there it couldn't have been closer to the truth. "Ollie..." she began, not even sure where she was going.

He dropped his hands, arms still pressing against his knees and looked up. "What Chloe?" She sighed and walked closer, closer to him. Little pale legs sticking out from her short black robe, hiding whatever she wore underneath, bare feet skimming across his carpet, hair slightly mussed from sleep, face clean of make up. She looked like she had just been woken up, eyes still clouded with sleep. She looked like she should have been in his bed.

"I don't know," she whispered softly as she took a seat near him on the side of his bed. There was almost a foot between them, far enough, but just barely. Yet she couldn't waste the opportunity by worrying about proximity. "I mean I do. But it's the same thing I always say...right?" She glanced at him, but he wouldn't meet her eyes, instead looking down at the carpet. "So I'd rather have something else to say, but I don't. So I guess I don't know."

"So then why are you here?"

There was a bite in his voice. There were so many reasons for it that she couldn't even begin to guess. "You called me, I just had to try." No response, and seconds later, waiting for anything, she knew he wasn't going to say a word. "You didn't have to call, you didn't have to let me in, and you could tell me to leave right now." One, two, three... "Why?" She inhaled sharply, almost scared of his response, and not even sure why that was.

At her one worded question he turned his eyes, not bothering to twist his neck, and glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, taking her in perched on the side of his bed, face turned towards him, hands grasping edges of the mattress. She wanted to know why. He could lie, he could send her away. Or he could just tell her the truth, get it off his chest, and maybe she would run, leave him alone. It didn't matter, at this point nothing did. Oliver didn't regret much of anything anymore.

Pulling himself up to his full height, turning at the waist to face her, one hand propped on his knee, the other resting on the bed behind and between them, he leaned in slightly. "Am I just a friend to you Chloe?" Her eyes twitched slightly and he could only assume it was in confusion. "Meaning if I were to kiss you right now would you push me away?" Her breathing seemed to hitch slightly, or perhaps it was his imagination.

"Yes," she whispered softly, not sure if she should pull away or not, but she held her ground, and he didn't lean forward.

"Good," he nodded slowly. Her eyes narrowed, and he knew he had only confused her further. By his actions he appeared attracted to her, and that was the truth. Yet here he was grateful that she wasn't attracted to him. The problem was if she had been, if she had said she wouldn't have pushed him away, he would have been tempted. He would have leaned in, pressed his lips against hers and done everything in his ability to seduce her and get her into his bed. He'd strip her of every piece of clothing and greedily bury himself inside of her. He'd fist his hands in her hair, bury his face in her neck, and force himself as deep inside of her as humanly possible, trying to steal away the warmth and comfort that she brought him. And he knew what would happen. He'd take it, unable to give anything back, and leave her just as cold and empty as he was.

With a shudder at the realization of what he wanted, of what he would selfishly do to her, he pushed himself off the bed and walked to the other side of the room, taking a seat on the sofa to face her. Yet he didn't tell her to leave. He was still slightly selfish.

"What is it?" She asked gently, not sure if he actually meant it or not.

There were only two options. Brush it off, shrug and move on...or he could just tell her. The problem with being at rock bottom was that there was rarely anythin to hold you back. If he was lucky she'd leave in disgust.

Bending his neck from side to side, an audible crack filling the room, Oliver fell back against the sofa, his head resting against the back, and his eyes trained up at the ceiling, unable to meet her own. "If you had said yes...next time I might do more than cop a feel."

No...She shook her head slightly. Oliver Queen was NOT attracted to her. "No offense Oliver, but you seem to be copping a feel with quite a few women lately."

He shut his eyes and snorted, shaking his head. Lifting his head slowly he looked at her through narrowed eyes, taking in her appearance once again, fighting against the curiosity of what would happen if he parted her robe. For her own well being she needed to understand. "Quite true, but when I left you four hours ago and fucked some stranger it was because of you." He'd needed to get it out of his system. Jerking off wouldn't do it. And little did he know another woman wouldn't either. He'd closed his eyes, saw her in his head, body beneath him, head thrown back, screaming his name.

What he was saying...it was impossible. It didn't matter what he said, she wouldn't believe it, would refuse to. At the most she might be able to convince herself that his mind had somehow twisted his hate towards her interference in his life into lust, but anything more than that was impossible. So she'd brush it off and move on. "You can try to scare me and shock me, that's fine Ollie, but I'm not giving up." With a sigh she stood up. "I'll be here in the morning. You can leave again if you wish, but I'll still be here in the morning, No matter what." With that she moved to leave, heading for the door. She heard him move, then felt his hand on her wrist. As he pulled her back around she gasped, shocked to see him so close, towering over her.

Like a deer in the headlights, her green eyes were wide and scared, and she should be. He'd just told her he went out and fucked some stranger because he couldn't fuck her. So slowly he brought his free hand to her arms and trailed his fingers up from her wrist. They caught on the sleeve of her robe and moved over the soft cotton covering her arm. Reaching her shoulder he broke contact and touched his fingertips to her cheek. At that point he heard her breath catch and felt one of her hands against his chest, pressing firmly enough to keep him away.

"Ollie..." she began, starting to protest. Hours ago she would not have believed him capable of turning his charms on her, trying to seduce her, but now she wasn't so sure.

"Shhhhh," he whispered softly, dropping his head slowly. "I'm not going to do anything." Sliding sliding his fingers over her cheek, into her hair, he cradled her cheek. His lips were inches from her own, just inches. It would have been so easy to kiss her. He could have done it, even if she did push him away. "I've seduced a lot of woman Chloe." Her eyes widened slowly and he couldn't decide what turned him on about the way her eyes widened at his statement. "And if I tried right now, I think there is a chance I could seduce you."

"But you're not," she whispered, almost unable to speak out of nervousness and fear. Yet deep down she knew he wouldn't, not with her, even if the close proximity of his half clothed body made her nervous. No one could say that Oliver Queen wasn't something to dream about. He was attractive and if Chloe was honest she would have to admit she had appreciated the view more than once, but that was it.

"No," he admitted softly, relieved and frustrated at his answer. Dropping his head even lower, sliding his fingers into her hair to cradle the back of her head, he pressed his forehead against her own. She gasped sharply, her other hand coming up to his chest, her arms seeming to tense between them, a look of panic in her widened green eyes. "Shhhh." He shushed her gently, feeling as if he was trying to comfort a frightened animal. "I said I wasn't."

"Then what are you doing?" Her voice shook in fear and she had to wonder why she was only holding the distance between them, not shoving him away. So he wasn't going to try and seduce her, but why was she even giving him an inch?

"I wanted to see."

The tip of his nose brushed her own, and she didn't think it's on purpose, but couldn't be sure. "What?"

"My chances." He studied her face, trying to find some kind of answer. Because she should have stopped him long ago, shoved him away. Demanding an answer for his behavior and telling him never to touch her again, but she didn't. "Do you let all the men you know get this close Chloe?" Her body froze against him as she inhaled sharply, signaling that she realized what was going on. Before she could push him away, reject him, making his pain even worse, he released her and stepped back. By the shock still on her face though, the damage had been done. Even if Chloe didn't realize it, she'd let him get close to her, touch her like a lover would, and she hadn't pushed him away. It could turn into nothing, it could be nothing more than just a mild physical attraction on her part, but still...

Seconds passed and neither said a word. He seemed fully resigned to his loneliness again, through with his shocking words and invasive touches, once more behind his stone cold facade. "Ollie," she began carefully, more so than when he had approached her earlier that night. Things had changed in just a matter of hours. It wasn't just him teetering, ready to fall off the edge, and her trying to pull back even though he resisted. Now there was a new factor thrown into the mix that she had to be careful of. "You can't scare me off. Regardless of what you say, I'm still going to be here."

He watched her turn away from him, heading towards the door, and this time he was resolved to let her go, because it was better that way. After he'd made such a fool of himself, done everything in his power to push her away, it was probably in both of their best interests that she left. Except as she neared her exit he was reminded once again of what she did to him, that ability she had to fill the voids left in him. Without even thinking, or knowing what he was doing he grabbed her arm, pulling her back around, being sure to keep some distance between them at the risk of finally scaring her off. Because this time, he didn't want to scare her off, he didn't want to make her retreat because of his statements. "Stay."

"Wh-what?"

Her eyes seemed to flicker over him quickly, trying to find some reason to his request. Chloe felt good, and not just in a physical sense. Sure he wanted to touch her, slide his hands up her petite legs, over her hips, palm her breasts. He wanted to be inside of her, deep, know what it felt like to have her squeezing him, her legs wrapped around him. But it wasn't just that, just her being there, he didn't feel so lost. She had faith in him, even if it was undeserving, and regardless of how much he didn't want it, her faith, it felt good to know it was there, that she was still there. "I'm not asking for anything." Although he wanted more. He wanted all of her, but she wasn't his. Her feelings didn't extend as far as his did, and even if they did he wasn't sure he would allow himself to even try, to ruin the only decent thing he seemed to have left. "Just stay." Her eyes were wide with understanding, lips parted just slightly, calling to him, forcing him to ignore them. The more she broke down each defense he put up the more he wanted her and the harder it was to walk away. If she was smart, she'd realize that she had him where she wanted him. With just a little taste he would keep coming back for more.

* * *

She only dozed, the cool air making it difficult to find sleep. If she was honest with herself it wasn't just the frigid temperature that kept her from rest, it was the body behind her. It wasn't touching her, it wasn't moving or making any sound, but she knew it was there. So she kept still, feigning sleep even when she wasn't sleeping. For what could have been the second, third or fourth time that night she opened her eyes just slightly, peering at the alarm clock. Almost five in the morning. The sun had yet to rise. With a small sigh she closed her eyes, willing herself to fall back asleep. She was almost there when the bed shifted. She held her breath, which was ridiculous, because even in sleep she would have been breathing. Simultaneously she felt his body brush her back and his hand slide over the side of her waist. It was with great effort she kept her body still, her breathing even, and regardless of the fact that she should have pulled away, she remained still. With her eyes squeezed shut she felt his chest press closely against her back and his arm wrap around her waist.

The last thing Chloe should have done was lay there. Her relationship with Oliver was so twisted and convoluted, laying with him in such an intimate position was far from a good idea, especially considering his words and actions only hours ago.

She had expected to have to push him off at some point, not to ease into his embrace, relax at the feeling of his hard body against her back, his arm snug around her waist, his warm breath brushing her neck. The feel of his breath, feathering across her skin, startled her at first, but it didn't make her pull away, not like she should have.

So she just laid there, with her body cradled by his own, drifting off to sleep, knowing that she was wrong for allowing it, but not caring. She felt warm, protected, safe.

no, it didn't matter that it was wrong, in the darkness, where no one could see, she ignored the rest of the world and fell asleep in his arms.

He barely slept, too aware of the woman he held. Every time Chloe sighed or shifted her legs, he woke. Sometimes she pressed against him, making him close his eyes, will away the jolt that shot through his groin. Other times she started to roll away, but he tightened his hold on her waist, pulled her back against him and pressed his face into her neck until she settled.

Besides holding her, the only other luxury he allowed himself was to caress her stomach with his thumb. From there his mind strayed to thoughts of sliding his hand between the edges of her robe. He knew she wore something underneath, most likely nothing revealing, but it didn't stop his curiosity. Oliver quickly shook those thoughts from his head, scared of what they might do to his lower body, and also determined to be happy with what he had at that moment. He'd spent the past few months trying to find something, anything to bury his demons in. Then Chloe showed up, somehow sneaking past every wall and barrier he put up to her attempts, and then it was too late for him. He found something that would ease the pain, or more like someone. And she wanted to help him, if he asked, she'd take on his burdens just to give him piece of mind.

The sun was up, lighting his room, and he knew it was only a matter of time before she woke. At some point in the night she had to have awaken, known that he was holding her, but she hadn't pulled away. He was grateful, and much more pleased by that fact then he cared to admit. Time was running out though, and when she woke he knew she wouldn't hesitate to pull away and quickly make her exit, embarrassed by the proximity of their bodies to one another. It was too intimate, at least between friends.

He stared at the back of her blond head for some time, allowing his eyes to trail down her arm, covered by her black cotton robe. Eventually he sighed and closed his eyes, determined to ignore her impending departure and just enjoy the feeling of her in his arms.

When Chloe first shifted, he pulled at her body as if it was habit, and maybe it was, because he didn't even think about it as he did so. Then her body pressed harder against his arm and then she was moving to sit up. Letting his arm fall away he watched her sit on the edge of the bed, let his eyes trail over her mussed hair and down her back. With a sigh he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, refusing to meet her eyes, even when he could see her look over her shoulder at him.

With a frown Chloe turned on the bed to face him, bringing one leg up and flattening her hands on the mattress to lean on them. "You aren't coming back yet are you?"

In silence he stared up at the ceiling, unable to meet her eyes, not because he didn't want to this time, but because he knew he would feel guilt if he did. "No." She sighed. He was disappointing her, he knew that. If he tried, he could have convinced himself to go back, to try, maybe for her. Maybe if she would have returned his feelings, given in to his urges, he might have followed her like she was an animal in heat. But he wasn't stupid. Chloe didn't want him the way he wanted her, and he was hardly in a place for that type of relationship, especially with someone that meant something to him. His feelings for her aside, returning because he wanted her wasn't a good enough reason either, he would only fail in the end. If he did return he would have to do it because he wanted to. Chances are Chloe would have something to do with those reasons, but it would have to be changes on his own part, not just what she was able to do for him.

"Ollie," she called out, trying to get his attention, but he didn't move. Biting her lip, Chloe contemplated on how to next proceed, needing to make him look at her, listen to her. Pushing her boundaries, and using what feelings he had for her against him, Chloe scooted closer to him, her body just brushing the side of his. Propping one arm up beside his head she brought her free hand to his cheek and gently pulled his face to the side so that he was finally looking at her.

His heart thudded slightly as she moved against him, pressed her palm against his cheek. When he turned, guided by her hand, he found her leaning over him, blond hair hanging around her face. It would have been the perfect position for him to reach up, bury one hand in her hair and pull her on top of him.

"You don't have to, and I won't try to force you. But when you're ready, or if you need somebody, I'll be there." Lately, looking into his eyes had been scary almost. There was always anger there, resentment, frustration, and more recently lust. But she couldn't for the life of her figure out the look in his eyes then. His face was almost at ease. His mouth not scowled in anger or pursed in frustration, the corner of his eyes not wrinkled as they narrowed. He seemed almost young, and slightly lost, not broken, never broken, just lost. Without even thinking, and not realizing how her eyes remained locked with his own, she held her hand against his cheek and caressed his stubbled cheek with her thumb, gliding it back and forth.

His hand moved out of the side of her vision and she stilled, not moving away though. With a soft shudder she watched his hand rest over hers, his fingers wrapping around her own.

He swallowed, not even sure what he was doing as he parted his lips. "Not yet." Not no, not like every other time she asked him to come back. This time he had said 'not yet'. Turning his head into her hand and tightening his grasp on it just slightly he pressed a kiss against her palm. Their eyes never broke, and even though her's widened slightly, and she seemed to inhale sharply in response, she didn't pull away.

Seconds passed before Chloe got her wits about her again. It had gone too far, much too far. In the plain, on her way back to Metropolis, she would be cursing herself. This time she wouldn't be deterred. "Bye Ollie."

Her hand pulled away from his own, parting from his lips, and this time he let her go. Within moments Chloe was gone from his life again. He might see her again in weeks or months. Before, he'd never kept track of the time that had passed between the times he had seen her. His goal, only hours ago, was to chase her away. Now, he feared she might not come back. As much as he had convinced himself the world didn't need the Green Arrow, that it was better off without him and Oliver Queen, for the first time he hoped he was wrong.


End file.
